Mad As Hell - Part 2 - Someone Is Brewing
by Lancer1968
Summary: Somebody's In Trouble…But Whom?


Mad As Hell – Part 2

Someone Is Brewing

Summary: Somebody's In Trouble…But Whom?

Usual Disclaimers Apply

One Tequila by Darius Rucker

Cause with one tequila, please pass me the salt and lime.  
With two tequilas the whole world's a friend of mine.  
But with three tequilas my legs won't work no more.  
Yeah it's one tequila, two tequila, three tequila floor.  
It's four tequila, five tequila, six tequila door.

# # #

The girl trembled in sweat-drenched rumpled sheets, which held her captive in the middle of a double-wide four poster brass bed. As if in a voodoo trance, she madly tossed her head side to side on a squashed pillow. Tears sporadically fell from her firmly shuttered eyelids, while rivets of spittle dribbled from the corners of her mouth, her bright red nose had nasty discharge running down her flushed face. The girl's flaying continued, which only served to knot her hair into a disheveled mess as the gobs of tears and crud formed frenzy tentacles in a crazed fashion framing her face.

Her raw, chapped lips attempted to form words, but now nothing understandable was uttered; instead only low guttural sounds and low moans escaped, akin to what a trapped, rabid animal would make to warn predators to keep away. There was something amiss with the cavity of her mouth, her tongue was swollen, her throat dry and parched, felt gritty, like half the sands of Death Valley had staked claim to her orifice. Her eyes refused to open more than a mere slit; she struggled to make them obey, but they remained unyielding closed against any penetrating shard of light. There was one minuscule beacon of illumination which had dared to infiltrate between the heavy damask curtains drawn together blocking out the afternoon's gleaming sunlight as well as the scorching August heat. This lone source of light caused relentless throbbing to humpy-thump rampant inside her aching head.

The darkened room smelled strongly of grisly stenches, there was an amalgamation of urine, vomit, sweat and human exterminate wafting about the almost silent tomb-like quarters. The door slowly creaked open to permit two forms to creep softly into the quiet, darkened room. A long slender hand reached out lifting one of the prone girl's arms that was haphazardly bent across her forehead, her hand resting limp alongside her head. Releasing the girl's hand it fell without resistance in a deaden thud thanks to the pull of gravity.

"Johnny, I told you not to do it. But would you listen? No, not you, you just had to prove your point. Win another bet. Didn't you? Were you even thinking about the consequences of your actions?" admonished the polished Bostonian accent that the prone girl vaguely thought she had heard somewhere before, if only she could summon up from where.

A cock-eyed grin played across the dark-haired man's face, "Me? This ain't my fault! It's all hers. She pushed and got shoved back. This will teach her not ta mixed mezcal shooters with habanero chili peppers in a drinkin' bet against me. Madre de Dios! She better snap out of her hangover before Murdoch gets back from Modesto. It's been two days now she's been riding that bed without movin'. Whoo-boy! It sure does stink in here!" Johnny said waving at the air.

"Pheww," agreed Scott wrinkling his nose in disgust. "At least you're right about that, Johnny. I, for one, am not accepting any responsibility for Teresa's condition nor am I cleaning up this mess," scolded Scott as he slapped Johnny's stomach with the back of his hand. "Oh no, this was not my idea, little brother. All those bewildering nightmares she had, what was that all about?"

"I already told ya. I tried stoppin' her from chewin' the worms, she wouldn't listen ta me. They must have messed with her head pretty bad, mixed with those hot peppers too. Ya know that ever since Murdoch's been away on business she's been paradin' around in those damn tight britches of hers. She's the one been actin' too big for them tryin' ta boss us around. Who-whee this should take her down a peg or two, maybe stop her game playin' with us. Huh, Scott?" quipped Johnny.

"Worms? Worms, Johnny? Worms as in more than one bottle of mezcal was consumed, Johnny?"

"Yeah," he slowly admitted.

"Have you been out in the hot sun too long, little brother?" croaked Scott.

"Oh come on, Boston! Ya know Teresa, once she gets an idea in her head, she don't let up. Hell, I just did what she asked for. I told her ta not do it. That she would regret it. But she wouldn't listen ta me. Tell ya the truth; I don't think she remembers the last bottle and a half, her noggin' was tiltin' side ta side and she did spill more than went down. Damn waste of good mezcal!"

"Never mind that, Johnny! Just how many worms are you talking about?" asked Scott with an aggrieved expression.

"Three. But I'm telling ya, Scott, if she's ain't any better by tomorrow I'm goin' fishin' for a few days. Teresa can stay here smellin' like the inside of the outhouse. She made the bet, now she's layin' in it!"

~Fin~

Sun Dancer

Note: All tequilas are mezcals, but not all mezcals are tequilas. Tequila is a type of mezcal, much like how scotch and bourbon are types of whiskey. Mezcal is defined as any agave-based liquor. This includes tequila, which is made in specific regions of Mexico and must be made from only blue agave (agave tequilana).

A mezcal worm is an insect larva found in some types of mezcal produced in Oaxaca, Mexico. The larva is usually a gusano rojo ("red worm") or a chinicuil ("maguey worm"), the caterpillar of the Comadia redtenbacheri moth. The red worm is typically considered tastier. Contrary to popular belief, true Tequila does not contain a worm. It is only in mezcal, a closely related beverage.

One of the urban legends surrounding the worm in mezcal is that the worm is so saturated in liquor that eating it causes a hallucinogenic reaction similar to that of peyote. However, this particular piece of folklore has no truth to it; eating the worm will not give you hallucinations and more importantly, Teresa doesn't know that either.


End file.
